


favourite forgery

by kiiouex



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fivesome, Implied Death, M/M, POV Second Person, Zero Consequences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:18:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6172468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiiouex/pseuds/kiiouex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I think you fucked him up,” Skov says. </p><p>You hook a finger into the corner of his mouth, pull it wider, and he just sits passive and open. It’s enough to make you grin again. “I think I made some improvements.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	favourite forgery

**Author's Note:**

> let's not make eye contact okay
> 
> Partially inspired by [f0x-meets-w0lf's](http://f0x-meets-w0lf.tumblr.com/) amazing art for making me think about dream pack more because look at how they draw them wowww
> 
> and thanks to [telekinesiskid](http://archiveofourown.org/users/telekinesiskid) for beta-reading, even though she told me to title it 'The Wet Dream Pack' I mean jesus. She was also the one who suggested that after K bought Prokopenko back, Proko seemed a bit more... submissive :V

You wake up grinning, smug and satisfied. It took a few tries - a few hideous failures - but you this time, you got it. “Boys,” you say, to the three crowded around you, "Allow me to present Prokopenko Two Point O."

Skov, Swan and Jiang study the body beside you. Draped over an unmade bed in one of the least-used rooms upstairs in your manor, lying on the stains of the last attempt, is your new Prokopenko. He blinks up at them with the same face, same dark eyes, all his organs internal, and you smirk with pride; you got him this time. “I told you it wasn't worth worrying.”

“Yeah,” Jiang agrees, cocking his head, “This one looks - I mean, he looks legit. Kind of out of it, though. Proko?”

“Mmm?” Proko hums, gaze drifting over to Jiang. His eyes look sharp, like they did the few times you saw him sober, and you don’t think he’s out of it. The word that comes to you is ‘obliging’.

You crook your fingers under his chin, turn him to face you, and he follows the motion easily, without a hint of resistance. He’s not glazed over, but he’s docile, watching you to see what you’ll do next without even knocking your hand away like he should. Experimentally, your press a thumb against his bottom lip, drag his mouth open, slide fingers along his tongue. He raises his eyebrows, unimpressed, but doesn’t make a single move to stop you.

“I think you fucked him up,” Skov says.

You hook a finger into the corner of his mouth, pull it wider, and he just sits passive and open. It’s enough to make you grin again. “I think I made some improvements.”

The other three begin to circle, taking their lead from you and gaining a predatory edge. The curtains are still drawn, only a single beam of sunlight filtering in and lighting up the dust motes. You picked this room on the off-chance none of your attempts worked and you were too lazy to move the bodies, but now you’ve got a whole Prokopenko beside you, you’re seeing the room’s other advantages. It’s quiet. Spacious.

Jiang’s the first to make a move. He threads his fingers in Proko’s hair, testing how familiar it feels. Boringly gentle, he shifts his grip and tugs Proko’s head back, watching how fluidly your dream-boy responds. Proko’s gaze slides over to him, somewhere between indulgent and obedient. “Really?” he asks. His voice isn’t much different. Maybe a bit more patient that he used to sound, if you’re listening for it. You decide not to listen.

“We just saw you come out of K’s head. Gotta see if you’re still right,” Jiang says, but he sounds more confident that this Prokopenko can pick up smoothly where the last one left off. “Do you remember what happened?”

You made him, so you know he should. It takes him a minute to consider before he answers, “Yeah. Did the crash look cool?”

“Fucking hardcore,” Jiang assures him, and they both grin. You’re so proud.

Skov asks, “Do you feel any different?” and Proko just shrugs. If you made him wrong then he wouldn’t know. If you made him wrong then you can always try again later.

You say, “Let’s test him out,” and drag him onto your lap. It’s beyond easy, he’s warm and malleable in your hands, head lolling back to rest on your shoulder just the way you want him to. He grins at you, pleased and languid and compliant, rolling his hips just a little and yeah, this is an improvement. You set your teeth against his neck and press a hard bite into unmarked skin, the first time the shape of your incisors has ever been set on him. “Think this makes you a virgin?”

“Well, fuck, it might,” he says, and his legs fall lazily open. “Someone deflower me.”

Four people oblige. You shift him in your lap a little, so your cock can press up against the curve of his ass, and Jiang settles in neatly between his open legs. Swan’s hand runs up one side of his neck while you lick your way down the other, and it doesn’t take long with that kind of attention before he’s starting to shiver, torn between rocking his hips back onto you or forward for Jiang as Jiang’s hands move steadily up his inner thighs.

This Prokopenko is a brand new body, waiting to be broken in, and you feel like you don’t have to be gentle with him anymore. Not that you _were_ , but after seeing how easy he was to replace? You snatch one of his earlobes in your teeth and pull, draw a ragged mix of pain and delight from his throat, and he sounds a hell of a lot less passive even as his body does nothing but sway towards whatever direction feels best.

There are a lot of hands on him, on you and everyone else, at least three pairs working in tandem to get his pants off while you hold him back against your chest. His head dips back a little on your shoulder, eyes finding yours even as his breathing starts to get shallow. You know what it feels like, being at the middle of that storm, too many fingers clawing up his inseam, too many fingers tracing any part of him that might get a reaction. You know when someone grabs his dick because his eyes shudder closed, his body twitching hard against yours, and you start feeling your way down to his bared ass. Nothing has changed besides the gratifying ease of how he surrenders himself to you, all of you, designated prey for the evening.

His sweat is almost sweet on your tongue as you lap it up from where it collects on his collarbones. A heavy moan catches in his throat, not as a result of anything you’ve done, and you look down to see Jiang take a long lick of his cock. “Still good?” you ask.

“You could have made him bigger,” Jiang says, and both of you laugh while Proko shudders between you. Swan’s got a hand up his shirt, and Skov’s got one hand down Swan’s pants and one on Jiang’s thigh, and Proko twists around in your lap just enough to nip at your neck. It barely hurts, and so you punish him by biting down savagely into his shoulder, enough to make him cry out and buck up into Jiang’s mouth.

You hook a hand under one thigh to drag his legs apart, and someone helps you on the other side, spreading him open. You sink two fingers into him easy, find him hot and wet and tighter than when you last had him. From Jiang’s muffled groan, you made Proko’s hips twitch again, so you repeat the motion, thrusting with your fingers until Proko’s sprawled back against you. Everyone but him is grinning, white teeth and hoarse breath and slowly beading sweat.

He moans when you take your fingers out, eyes flickering open to fix you with the hungriest look you’ve ever seen on him. He’s shivering under two sets of hands and one very practiced tongue, and you could watch him fall apart without doing a thing at all, but you want your own piece of this. Your erection’s digging into his lower back, and from the strained way he’s rolling his hips back against you, you think he wants it. Looking down at the pile of bodies before you, you ask, “Did anyone think to bring lube?”

Of course they did, and you make an even bigger mess of Proko pouring it down between the two of you, getting him slick and ready and enjoying his Pavlovian response to the sensation; lifting himself up, just a little, legs opening without command. But he had that one on his own, before.

You sink into him, gravity helping him down onto your cock and pushing you deep into him. Jiang’s mouth is a sticky mess already, Swan’s pushed his shirt all the way up and covered his chest in dark, blossoming marks, and Skov’s taken the side of his neck you haven’t, two fingers in his mouth enough to tease but not quiet his moaning. Proko is coming apart in every way, pulled in every direction at once and unable to do a thing but enjoy it.

His head lolls back on your shoulder, mouth open as he desperately sucks in air, blush standing out even on his dark cheeks. His whole body goes tense as he lets out a beautiful, strangled cry, and then he tries to curl in on himself, gasping as Jiang wipes his mouth. Apparently, he’s done, but you pull him back upright against your chest, hold him in place. No one else is.

There’s a keening edge to his cries, body limply going along as you pump up into him, eyes fluttering weakly and totally glazed with pleasure. The others don’t let up on him, the insistent pull of teeth and fingers and tongues pinching at every part of him they can reach, and you can’t remember the last time you all fucked him so thoroughly. Maybe you’re all extra-fond of him after the crash. It’s not going to last.

Every surge of your hips drives you deeper into him, and his sweaty hands find where yours are still clasped over his chest and cling to them. He presses his lips to your neck but forgets to bite, and you shove into him harder to remind him, until his teeth finally leave a stinging, bloody bite in you. Someone’s touching his prick again but he’s sore, oversensitive, can’t handle it and just shivers and aches against you. Someone else sighs, someone moans, someone swears, and Proko’s teeth dig deeper into you as the hand on his cock is suddenly a lot rougher with its owner’s distraction.

The pain is good and sharp enough to push you over the edge, and you’re clutching Proko too tight as you spill out into him. Everything is a hot, shaking mess of pleasure and he’s the epicentre, the centre of the entire world as your head goes white and all you can feel is his breathless inhale in time to your heartbeat.

You help him slide off you and back onto the sheets, where he lies too well-used to move. The other three look lazy and content and not completely ruined, and you stretch, satisfied. “What’s the verdict?” you ask them.

“Fantastic,” Jiang replies, rubbing his jaw. “Can’t tell him apart from the real thing.”

“He _is_ the real thing now,” Swan objects, before looking to you for confirmation. “Right?”

“Absolutely,” you tell him. You nudge Proko with your foot, and he kicks back, completely out of energy. Soon none of you are even going to remember that there was an original, and that the original wasn’t nearly so unresisting. “Our Proko, new and improved. Maybe I should re-do all of you, too.”

They laugh. You don’t, just so they’ll notice, just so you can grin slow and shark-like the second doubt strikes them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I'd love to know what you thought! I still [tumblr](http://kiiouex.tumblr.com/) :V


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